The evening was not a success. Bo was definitely as good-looking as his Tinder profile promised, which is why Priya had overlooked the lack of conversational flow and asked to meet for coffee. Some people are just not good communicators online, she had told herself.

But the gap in their common interests was painfully wide. Bo was into gaming, rock-climbing and Star Trek.

Priya was into postcolonialism and intersectionality.

“So your favourite book is The Hobbit?” she asked, desperately.

Bo lighted up. “Yeah- and it’s actually so much better than the Lord of the Rings. Lord of the Ring movies are so much better than the books!

Priya nodded. “yes I’ve heard that.” On Tinder dates. “I’ve actually read the Hob-

Bo continued, “I mean, it’s really amazing how Tolkien just came up with this whole world of elves and hobbits and dragons. I know he didn’t create elves, obviously, but just the way he world-built them. Honestly- whenever people say, cultural appropriation, you know, well, all that stuff, and only people from a particular race should write about that race- you should point to Tolkien. Like- he wasn’t an elf or a dwarf was he. What about fantasy? “

Priya couldn’t help smiling kindly. “Yes, he was a good writer- but you realise, he was still writing what he knew. Elves are based on English or European aristocracy. Hobbits were like yeomen – you know- farmers. Goblins were – well- dark-skinned enemies. And Smaug, the hoarder of gold, was based on stereotypes about, well, a certain cultural-religious ethnicity known for greed.”

Bo widened his sea-coloured eyes. “Are you saying, like, well, like, Tolkien is racist?”

-“No- I mean just that even fantastical imaginary creatures behave in normal human ways based on what we know of our human society”.

The date ended soon after that. Neither showed any particular enthusiasm for a second.

That night, Priya couldn’t sleep. Not just because she felt unsatiated, but something else. There was too much noise, not just usual apartment noises, but the sound of the wind- and water? Was the neighbour’s bathtub leaking? The sound of singing- faraway and distant, but gradually coming closer. She sat bolt upright in the dark.

The music was closer, like churchy music, and the words became clearer.

“Dark maiden of stone, in stone will be laid”

Suddenly through the wall a gang of tall thin singing men with gleaming skin burst in. They fell silent, and smiled showing sharp teeth- and one of them laughed. “English aristocracy did you say?” The others burst out laughing “We are just normal humans, she thinks!” “A thousand years inlaid in marble will show her how normal we are!”

“Nooooo!” screamed Priya as the men took her, manhandling her through the corridors between worlds. She struggled fruitlessly as they encased her in the marble wall of the grand hallway of their elven castle, and for a thousand years she watched them do their business, unable to move, speak or die.